


Closer

by ClaireScott



Series: Dirty Supernatural imagines [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Doggy Style, F/M, Smut, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireScott/pseuds/ClaireScott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean fucks you to "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails. That's it. 100 % pure smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language. I apologize for all the horrible mistakes.

It’s Friday night and you’re in a club with Dean, your partner in crime, partner in hunt, partner in everything except the smutty things. He plays pool as he often does – ripping off guys, earning hard cash. It’s your part to get him out of a possible escalating situation, when his co-players realize they got ripped off. So you have to have an eye on him and the pool table. But now it’s totally relaxed, it’s the first match with new players. You go to the bar for the next bottle of beer, one for Dean, one for you. You know you shouldn’t drink this bottle, it’s your fourth beer this evening, but, hey, – you’re looking for a little bit distraction, fun and you’ve got this little hope burning in your heart to find someone you could love. Just for a few days. Or at least get laid by.  
You dance your way along the music directly to the pool table, seeing Dean smiling on you – or on the bottle of beer he knows it’s for him. The music is fucking good and you feel the urge to dance, to get real funky on the dance floor.  
“Hey, babe… thanks…,” he says, grabbing the beer, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek – window-dressing is everything.  
“Can you hear the demon?” You whisper in his left ear, slapping his ass softly. Way too much beer. That’s it.  
Dean, who’s watching the pool table closely and taking a sip of his beer, freezes.  
“Ha? What?” He asks, turning his head to you.  
“Dance, the demon whispers…” You give him a big grin, chuckling and shaking your ass a bit.  
“What?”  
Dean’s looking at you like you’ve asked him to explain some of Einstein’s theories to the physics students he’s ripped off half an hour before.  
“Come on, Dean, I want to dance…”  
“You’re drunk, babe. I can’t dance right now, I’m playing pool and I wanna win.”  
You roll your eyes at him and dance right away to find a guy who is more interested in dancing with you. You find one, and forget to have an eye on Dean and his pool match. You definitely had too much beer. After a bit of dancing you get really offensive in flirting. You. Want. This. You have a few laughs, one more bottle of beer and finally a big, strong hand on your waist, the feeling of stubbles on your cheek as he whispers a compliment in your ear.  
You feel a hand grabbing your arm, pulling you right away from this blonde dude with the ocean blue eyes.  
“Go. Fast.”  
“Oh, come on!” You grump, waving good bye to the blonde guy, giving him an apologetic smile. “What’s the matter? I had so much fun…”  
“My co-players are pissed. Want their money back. They’re searching for back up. More back up than I can handle.”  
You sigh, rolling your eyes again. You were so close on tonight’s target: Getting laid by a good looking dude. Fuck. Fuck you, Dean Winchester.

 

“Uh,” you say, as you go outside the club, “It’s quite warm for 3 a.m.”  
“Yeah,” Dean answers and hands his jacket over to you.  
“Thanks,” you answer. “I don’t freeze. As I said, it’s quite warm.”  
“Because you danced a lot while I’m working to get a living.”  
“You played pool, Dean, and you really enjoyed it.”  
“Right. And there are a few things I enjoy much more as playing pool,” he growls, grabbing your hand, leading you back to the Impala he had parked behind the building.  
The parking area is irresponsibly dark and you think of a lot of girls running more or less horrified to their cars. Dean stops and pulls you in a very dark place, pressing you to the wall. You try to look over his shoulder, you didn’t hear anything, your senses didn’t scream that there was something dangerous or alarming wrong.  
“What?” You whisper, still thinking Dean is protecting you with his body.  
He doesn’t answer; you hear his breath at your right ear, feeling the bass line and the drums of the song you hear through the walls in your body.  
You freeze as you feel Dean’s lips at your cheek, as you feel him kissing his way to your mouth.  
“What were you doing in there?” He asks under his breath.  
“Having fun, drinking beer, dancing…,” you say, somehow breathless.  
“What kind of fun?” He asks, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth.  
“I…” You start but Dean interrupts your explanation by licking over your bottom lip. “Dean!”  
“Wanna get laid?”  
“Sort of…,” you say vaguely, placing your hands on his chest – not to push him away. Only to feel his warmth and his muscles.  
“Why don’t you ask me, ha?”  
“Don’t know,” you whisper. “We’re partners.”  
You kiss him back, needy, wanting, consuming, hot. He tastes… god, you’ve got no words for how good he tastes, a bit of beer but most must be Dean… it’s kind of enchanting, and you know: You will be forever hooked on his taste. Dean growls, his hand slips under your shirt, caressing your stomach. As he reaches your tits, rubbing with his hard, callused palm over your nipples you moan, biting him softly in his neck. He presses his hips against you and you feel the bulge in his jeans.  
“I like what I feel,” you say with a smile.  
“You'll like it even more when we’re done,” Dean grins and opens with the left hand your belt, with his right one his own.  
You’re not able to hold a cushioned scream down, as his fingers reaching your folds. Your hands going down on him to his pants and you sigh in mild ecstasy as you find what you’re searching for. Dean hums at your ear, whispers, how good you feel. You’re wet and you feel the knot in your lower abdomen getting tighter from second to second.  
You grab him firmer as he plunges a finger in you. Dean moans at your grip, as you start stroking him, and this is the fucking best sound you’ve heard in a while. You remember, months ago, deep in the night, hearing him masturbating while he definitely watched some porn plus you’ve already heard him fucking a girl – but right here, at your ear, it’s very exciting. You try to get your pants and your panties down and Dean helps you.  
“Wanna do it here?” He asks, adding a second finger, fucking you slowly.  
“Yeah. I ca…. aahhhh… can’t wait, I don’t wanna wait,” you answer, breathing heavily.  
With his free hand he gives you a condom – wherever he got this right now – while he continues to fuck you as deep as possible with his fingers. You fumble around, in nearly absolute darkness, but it doesn’t get out of this goddamn wrapping.  
Dean sighs and helps you – leaving you for this. You’re swearing quietly while he rolls the condom over his cock.  
“Come on…,” you sigh, “I’m greedy.”  
“Don’t wanna come first?” He asks, circling around your clit. “You close, aren’t you?”  
You moan – the only answer you’re up to. His fingers slide back deep into you, the fingers of his left hand twirls your nipple. You stutter something meaningless, splutter his name. Your head fall back and you feel his warm breath at your neck.  
“Yeah. I guess you’re close…”  
Your mouth is open, but you can’t answer, you have a lot to do with breathing, with screaming your orgasm in the mild summer air. You hear Dean chuckling, feeling his soft kisses on your cheek.  
“Sounds good. I like that”, he murmurs and continues to kiss you while waiting for you to come down from your high.  
“Mhm”, you answer breathlessly, hearing a song ending – You could be mine, Guns’n’Roses – and waiting with one ear for the next to start.  
The beat of the music pushes through your body and you smile. You know this song, you love it.  
“Hear this?” You ask, knocking sloppily on the wall.  
“Yeah”, Dean answers and starts singing, quietly, near your ear, while still fucking you lazily with his fingers. “You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you. You let me penetrate…”  
You moan loudly as he thrusts his fingers hard in you.  
“… you, you let me complicate you. Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no soul to sell…”  
He turns you around, letting you face the wall, kissing your neck and your shoulder, pulling your hips closer. You support yourself on the wall, spreading your legs, sticking your ass out for giving him better access. The music seems to get louder, the lyrics hammering in your ear, as the beat does also. 

I want to fuck you like an animal  
I want to feel you from the inside  
I want to fuck you like an animal  
My whole existence is flawed  
You get me closer to god

You feel Dean pushing in you, hard and fast, matching to the music, matching to the lyrics. He sold his soul already, yeah. He felt his existence to be flawed from time to time, you know that. It’s like the ultimate getting-fucked-by-Dean-Winchester-song. He’s thrusting along the rhythm, his fingers searching again for your clit. You close your eyes, whimpering. As he finds your bundle of nerves it lasts only a few seconds for you to come again. You feel your inner walls clenching around his cock, hear him groan and moan, and this sound sending shivers along your spine.  
His breathing gets louder, alongside with yours. He grabs your hips, holding you in place, fucking you hard and fast. Fuck. You. Like. An. Animal. You urge the feeling to scream, biting in the sleeve of your shirt to hold your cries down. You whimper as the music ends, as you feel and hear Dean’s orgasm. All of a sudden everything is silent – the music ends abruptly, you just hear the muted sound of many people talking.  
You feel the blood pumping in your ears you hear the gasping of you both. You moan loathly as Dean leaves you, and after a few seconds you hear the sound of him pulling up his jeans, closing his belt.  
“They’re closing,” Dean whispers at your ear as you still stand statuesque at the wall. “Come on, get dressed.”  
“Yeah, yeah… I’m… just give me a minute…”  
“You’ve got ten seconds, babe. There are a lot of people coming around in less than a minute. Got it?”  
“Okay.”  
You bend down to your jeans and your panties, dressing up, while Dean covers your exposed ass with his body. About thirty seconds later you sit in the Impala, silently. You turn on the music you’ve got no need to talk right now. You have to think about how to get this clear.  
Halfway home you feel Dean’s hand on your thigh.  
“I wanna say thank you.”  
“Nah…,” you mumble.  
“…for getting me closer to god,” he smiles and winks at you.  
“You’re welcome,” you chuckle.  
“I’m not sure but… I think Sammy’s got an old Nine Inch Nails album. Are you in the mood for stealing it and having a round 2?”  
“I’m ready for round 2, Nine Inch Nails or not,” you answer.  
“Uh, perfect. It’s not really my kind of music.”  
“I know, Dean.”  
You smile at each other, Dean pressing your thigh a bit.  
“We good?” He asks, frowning.  
“We’re very good.”  
And that’s what you are. Sold soul, flawed existence, isolation, hate or the absence of faith – you don’t care. Dean can have your everything. He’s the reason you stay alive.


End file.
